


starts with one

by zitzgerald



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Non-Magical, Cats, M/M, Slow Build, dumb boys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-23
Updated: 2014-07-23
Packaged: 2018-02-10 01:38:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2006112
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zitzgerald/pseuds/zitzgerald
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A strange cat runs into Remus' apartment one day.</p><p>Guess who it belongs to.</p>
            </blockquote>





	starts with one

 

Remus is distracted because his umbrella has decided to live up to its cheapness at the same time rain had started pouring down that afternoon when he got off work. Now he’s soggy and shivering, desperate to dump the meager bag of groceries in the kitchen so he can take a hot shower and possibly sleep for the entire weekend he has off. There’s a bone deep exhaustion permeating and the only consolation is the pineapple juice sitting in the grocery bag that acts as his one luxury. He’s thinking about all of these things as he unlocks his apartment, which is why he doesn’t notice it until its streaking past him into the apartment the second he starts to open the door.

Letting out a little yelp that makes Remus grateful Peter is out, he drops the groceries on the floor and stands in the doorway to see what has just disappeared under the threadbare couch. It takes a moment, and Remus is craning his neck carefully, unsure if the creature is rabid or dangerous, but finally two wide eyes peer out at him from the shadow of the couch. Its a cat, small and grey but not mangy enough for him to think its a stray. He glances down both directions of the hallway but doesn’t see anyone or any open entrances. Next to his foot, the pineapple juice is leaking and its not until it soaks into the hole in Remus’ shoe and into his sock does he notice. Exclaiming for the second time, Remus shuts the apartment door and moves to clean up the mess.

He manages to dump the cracked carton of juice into the sink and is staring miserably as it goes down the drain when Peter pops his head out of his bedroom. So not out then. 

“Are you shouting because the store was all out of juice?” Peter asks casually, then quirks an eyebrow when he sights him. “Raining out is it?”

Remus just glares, dripping all over the kitchen silently in a way that makes Peter laugh. The noise is met with a quiet mew and Remus remembers that there’s a strange cat in their apartment.

Peter arches another eyebrow because he knows Remus hates that and says, “Did you get a cat at the market?”

“It ran into the living room when I opened the door,” Remus explains as they both watch the kitten creep out of the couch to stare between them. “I don’t think its a stray but I don’t remember anyone on this floor owning a cat. I’m not sure what to do with it.”

The cat starts pacing toward him and Remus just stands there, still damp and collecting water on the tile. They both observe with interest as it approaches Remus and pauses before starting to lap at the water dripping from his jeans. Peter laughs again and Remus just feels lost. This entire day was not meant to end with him standing soggy in his kitchen while perfectly good pineapple juice pours down the drain and a weird cat laps at him.

“So,” Peter is still grinning because he’s a shit. “Did you get the juice?”

\--

One shower and change of clothes later, Remus finds Peter dangling a dirty shoelace in front of the cat.

“I’m thinking we should name it Grey,” Peter says as the cat swipes and mewls. The scene looks far too comfortable and Remus groans internally because the pair of them can barely afford to feed themselves let alone a growing cat. Not to mention Remus doesn’t _want_ a cat.

“We’re not naming it,” Remus says firmly, moving to search through the kitchen drawers. There should be a list of names for everyone in the apartment from last Christmas when they were all suppose to chip in to get the maintenance guy a present. “We’re not keeping it. 

“Her,” says Peter cheerfully, like he’s not even listening to the part where _they’re not keeping it._

Remus ignores this and keeps probing for the list of names. “We may have to knock on doors to find the owner. Do you remember the name of who lives in 3B?”

“Shacklebolts,” is Peter’s answer, because he knows all the sorts of things Remus never seems to based off keen observation and eavesdropping alone. “Grey’s not theirs though because the younger brother is allergic.”

Not bothering to ask how Peter knows that considering neither of them are social enough to warrant that level of information, Remus gives up on his search and moves to look where Peter is still entranced with baiting the cat.

“Anyway we can’t ask until tomorrow since its already late,” Peter grins and coos at the cat. “Guess you’ll be having a sleepover with us, Grey. 

“Don’t call it that, we’re not keeping her,” says Remus, but Peter just smirks at him like Remus has lost the game already. He crosses his arms and frowns back. “We can’t afford it, Peter.”

This seems to get through to him because Peter’s shoulders slump and Grey tackles the limp shoestring to gnaw on it viciously. Between Remus’ job at the library and taking classes part time at the university, and Peter’s job at the video store and unused film degree, they barely had enough money to scrape together rent last month. Remus still suspects Peter’s mother had sent some cash over along with her usual tin of cookies, but has never asked 

Grey has apparently grown bored of the shoelace since catching it and pads over to pur against Remus’ bare feet. Watching her rub his head against his ankle, Remus has to admit she’s rather cute. If he smiles slightly, its only because he’s ticklish.

\--

The next day, Remus wakes up with something fluffy warming his chest. Grey is purring as she sleeps, the small vibrations just barely making it through Remus’ collarbone. With each breath he takes, her tiny body moves up and down and Remus can’t help but smile. 

“Don’t take it personally that we can’t keep you,” he says to Grey, stroking her head with a finger until she blinks at him sleepily. “You’re adorable, I promise. 

Grey yawns at that, pink tongue curling as she shifts. She stands and steps in a little circle, paws soft against Remus’ chest, before leaping off him, then the bed, and moving to curl up in a pile of dirty clothes. He leaves her there so he can get ready, forgoing his usual tea with coffee in anticipation of several awkward conversations in tandem. He checks the time that it’s an appropriate hour to knock on strangers’ doors before gathering her up in his hands, warning her not to escape while they’re in the hallways.

Peter’s already gone for the day, so its just Remus cradling Grey against his chest as he knocks on the first door: the neighbor to their direct left. 6B opens the door and its a tall, thin man glaring at Remus.

“Hello,” Remus says, going for polite despite the dark glower he’s receiving. Against his chest, Grey starts to squirm with narrowed eyes at the tenant and Remus shifts to better hold her. “I’m Remus Lupin, I live next door in 4B and yesterday this cat ran into my apartment. I was wondering if she was yours.”

“No.” The door is slammed in his face with no further elaboration or conclusion and Remus is left glowering at the door. Grey gives out a little hiss. Right then.

The other tenants are relatively polite about the fact that Remus is toting a cat up to their door. 2A is Dorcas Meadowes, who tells him that if he can’t find the owner, she’ll be happy to take Grey in. Its a nice gesture, but the thought of it still makes Remus shrug uncertainly. Grey is warm and small enough to fit in his palm if he lets her lean against his chest, and he can feel her rapid heartbeat pressing against his fingers as she purrs at him.

He tells Dorcas he’ll let her know.

4C houses Mary and Lily, who Remus is vaguely friends with, but they don’t appear to be home when he knocks, and neither is their neighbor Marlene McKinnon, so Remus moves on to the fifth floor. A short, dark skinned man answers and Remus attempts to sort through his foggy memories of what his name might be. Maybe Benjy something. 

Maybe Benjy Something smiles uncertainly at Remus before flickering his eyes at Grey, who is looking back with a blank expression Remus takes to mean he isn’t her owner. Still, he makes the introduction, “Hello, my name is Remus Lupin, I live in 4B. Is this cat yours?”

Maye Benjy just blinks at him, then offers a lost little smile and makes a gesture.

“Oh,” Remus says. “Sorry, I don’t know sign language --”

He’s luckily saved when another man, this one shorter and slightly balding, comes up from behind and leans against Maybe Benjy Something sleepily. Remus recognizes him as Dedalus Diggle, who is impossibly friendly to everyone, greeting strangers like they’re old friends. Now he’s sure the other man is Benjy Fenwick because he remembers they decorated the entire hall one Christmas and Marlene McKinnon had complained to management about the amount of lights hurting her eyes every time she stepped out to get her mail.

Now, Dedalus looks sleep rumpled but unbothered that Remus has interrupted his morning. He repeats the introduction to Dedalus, who instantly signs its translation to Benjy.

“No, she’s not ours,” Dedalus answers, signing automatically as he speaks. He winks at Grey, who mewls back with vague interest. “But she’s quite a beautiful cat --"

Benjy starts signing immediately, rolling his eyes at Dedalus, who pouts.

“Benjy hates cats,” Dedalus says in a conspiratorial whisper, and by Benjy’s expression, he knows exactly what Dedalus is saying about him. “Anyway, good luck finding her owner.”

“Thanks,” Remus says, smiling at both of them. Benjy signs something at him and Dedalus vocalizes it immediately with the air of a long established routine.

“He says you should come in for tea if you have time,” Dedalus says with a bright smile. “I agree, we don’t know you very well.”

“I don’t normally have time to socialize,” Remus says apologetically, wincing at how awful it sounds. “I work a lot and go to school.”

“Well,” Dedalus says. “You’ll have to make time eventually. Benjy makes excellent tea and crumpets.”

Benjy grins and winks at Remus and they send him off with a farewell and a promise that he stop by soon. He’s contemplating when he would have time to have tea around working and studying, but can’t come up with a reasonable hour he would be free.

Remus and Peter lived detached from the rest of the world, with Remus being too busy to socialize and Peter being too shy to do without Remus. They were perfectly content sitting at home together, sharing take out and discussing Peter’s latest film project. While he can admit its been a while since he made a new friend, he’s always assured himself that more friends would only provide diversions and prevent him from fully utilizing his time to bat down his loans sooner.

He doesn’t need more socializing, Remus decides, not when his life is perfectly fine as it is. Not everyone has to be a social butterfly anyway.

Against his chest, Grey sighs like she can read his mind.

\--

No one in the building is missing a cat. 

Granted, a couple of tenants weren’t home to affirm this, but Remus never gets around to checking, contenting himself to assume that Marlene or the old man who lives on the first floor don’t own a missing cat.

Its been two weeks with Grey living in the apartment and Remus finds himself becoming used to it far more quickly than anticipated. Peter googles what kind of milk they can feed her and his mother sends over the leftover cat food she’s had since her last cat died. Grey naps in Remus’ lap while he studies and allows Peter to take dozens of pictures of her with his camera. She’s intelligent, always blinking at them like she knows what they’re saying and cleverly sneaking into Remus’ room no matter how many times he closes the door. Making up a story about Grey being an escaped scientific experience about genetic mutations, Peter films an entire short story about her that consists of Grey napping in the sun and eating dry food.

One night Remus is picking up his laundry basket to take to the basement when Grey is suddenly there, idly leaping into it and settling down amongst his dirty jeans.

“Um,” Remus blinks down at her.

“She likes to watch the spin cycle,” Peter says from the kitchen. 

“She likes to watch the spin cycle,” Remus repeats, and Grey opens her eyes to grace him with what he’s pretty sure is a glare.

“She just sits and watches it,” Peter shrugs, mouth full of a sandwich. “I don’t think she’ll run or anything.”

Which is how Remus ends up running into Mary and Lily with a basket full of dirty laundry and a very small cat.

“Remus,” Mary says with a light tone. “Why are you carrying a kitten around in a laundry basket?”

Remus looks at her and cringes. “She likes to watch the spin cycle.”

Luckily Mary is a compassionate person so the giggle she lets out isn’t malicious or mocking, just amused. She reaches out and strokes at Grey’s head where she’s nestled among Remus’ clothes. He’s suddenly grateful his underwear is more toward the bottom of the basket. 

Next to her, Lily’s head is tilted in consideration as Mary give her finger for Grey to harmlessly bite at. “Isn’t that --”

Its not a sudden movement, or particularly sharp, but Mary casually moves her head to give her a simple, quiet look and Lily stops immediately with a growing grin. Looking between them, Remus has no idea what has just transpired, but Lily is smirking at Grey with a new light in her eyes and Mary is calmly letting her attack her fingers. 

“Um,” Remus says. He just wants to do laundry, not have perplexing exchanges with people in the hallway. It strikes him that ever since Grey appeared in his life, that’s all he ever seems to be doing these days.

“Don’t worry about it,” Mary says. She scrunches her nose at Grey in a farewell sort of way before smiling up at him. “I’m sure you’ll find the owner very soon.”

“How did you --” Remus wants to ask how Mary even knew Grey wasn’t technically is, but Lily is already leading her away and they both wave at him before disappearing around the corner. He watches them, confused, until Grey lets out a little noise that Remus interprets to mean she’s impatient for the spin cycle, so he shakes the thought of the pair from his mind and goes to the basement.

\-- 

A few days later its Sunday night Remus is settled in his favorite sweater with Grey curled up in his lap. Its her second favorite place to nap -- the first being his chest but Remus isn’t lying down -- and he’s used to absently stroking her while he catches up on reading. She’s careful about her claws, as if she knows he’s limited on clothing and the sweater was knit by his mum, so Remus doesn’t mind when she paws to half crawl under it. She burrows into his warmth, Remus letting a breath of laughter because it tickles.

He already knows he’s going to keep her, money or not, and Grey lets out a contented noise like she agrees.

At this moment, someone knocks on the door.

Reluctantly, Remus dislodges Grey, earning a glare from her as he moves to answer whoever is interrupting his calm night with an erratic, casual rhythm that falls by the wayside for the normal amount of knocking. 

When he throws open the door, its no one Remus knows, but he instantly freezes. The stranger is carelessly handsome, with long black hair scattered gracefully over the most impeccable bone structure Remus has ever seen. The elegant looks are slightly unkempt and paired with a worn leather jacket that makes the overall effect feel like a punch to his hormones. Remus feels irrationally angry at this because its almost summer and the leather jacket should not be necessary in this weather, meaning he’s just wearing it for aesthetic and probably _knows_ what kind of effect he’s giving off.

Asshole.

The first thing the asshole says is, “Oh my god its you,” in a sort of breathless, awed voice anyone else would be embarassed by. He’s just gawking at him though, and Remus feels his cheeks flushing enough for the both of them.

“Erm, yes?” Remus replies, raising an eyebrow in a dry way reminiscent of Peter. “I live here, so I’m not sure who else you were --”

“Marlene McKinnon said that Mary says you have my cat,” the guy says, still staring intently at Remus like he’s a very fine painting. It makes Remus want to squirm slightly until he processes the guy’s words and, oh.

“Oh,” because Remus doesn’t have much to say other than that. He pushes past the sinking feeling in his stomach and tries again. “You’re Grey’s owner?”

This at least breaks the gaze the guy has fixed on Remus as he frowns and wrinkles his eyebrows. “Grey? Her name is -- _Sharktopus_!”

Before Remus can react to the absurdity of that sentence, the guy is lunging forward into the apartment and immediately Remus has an attractive stranger half lying on the floor to cuddle with a purring Grey.

Remus can do nothing but stare.

Grey rubs her head all over the guy, making loud, content noises as she reunites with her owner, who rubs their noses together. It definitely does not make Remus’ skin prickle in attraction or jealousy. It doesn’t.  

“Sharktopus?” he says after a moment, because he still feels slightly confused and disappointed, on top of the lingering feeling of someone so annoyingly handsome rolling on his floor with a kitten in a way that somehow manages to be sexy and adorable.

“Because she’s grey, like a shark,” says the guy, holding her out for inspection as if Remus doesn’t know. “Plus my roommate and I watch a lot of Syfy movies.”

“Are you serious?” Not even Peter could think of a name so awful. But the guy just lights up even more and straightens to fix Remus with that awed gaze again.

“Yeah! So you do know me?" 

Remus shakes his head, wondering if this is all some very bizarre prank Peter has constructed to poke fun of Remus’ attachment to Grey, hatred of bad science fiction, and lack of love life all in one go. Its admittedly brilliant, but Remus is not having it. 

“No, sorry. Do you live in the building?”

“Oh.” the guy seems slightly disappointed, absently petting at Grey -- and Remus refuses to say her ridiculous real name now that he knows it -- as she demands his attention again. “My name is actually Sirius so I thought --”

He lets out a little laugh. “Damn it, we accidentally did the joke. I hate that one.”

‘“I’m Remus,” he offers, because he’s still not completely sure what’s going on or whether Peter is secretly filming.

“I know,” Sirius smiles at him like he does and Remus stands there, awkward and somewhat irritated. Between them, Grey mewls, angry that no one is paying attention to her even as she sits in Sirius’ hands. The noise startles Remus enough to break eye contact and he steps back for no reason except that looking at Sirius felt like the room was much smaller than it actually was.

“Anyway, I’m glad you have your cat back,” Remus says without much conviction.   

“Sharktopus,” Sirius says with a glint in his eye, already having picked up that Remus hates it. 

“Right, well.” The only thing keeping him from dosing Sirius with one of his sharp looks is politeness.

There’s another pause before Sirius gets up off the floor, still cradling Grey casually. He doesn’t move to leave right away though, focusing instead on petting her before bringing his head up to fix Remus with another look, this one more determined and slightly wild. He seems paradoxical, Remus thinks, considering the unconscious elegance that somehow matches the sloppy way Sirius acts. Its frustrating because Remus doesn’t appreciate the way Sirius has helped himself to his apartment floor, the cat that isn’t technically Remus’, and into a particular spot of his chest that aches with attraction.

He works himself up into a proper anger and thinks about telling Sirius off for leaving his cat around unsupervised so it can run into anyone’s apartment, politeness be damned. There’s a scathing comment about the possibility that Remus was a cult leader who sacrificed animals on the tip of his tongue when Sirius cuts off his thought process.

“Do you want to have coffee?” Sirius asks. “So I can pay you back for taking care of Sharktopus?”

Remus looks to where Grey starts batting at a stray lock of Sirius’ hair, thinks about the biting animal neglect remark, and sighs. 

“Alright.”

\--

Sirius leaves with Grey -- _Sharktopus_ , Remus mentally corrects himself with a cringe -- and his phone number with a promise to buy Remus coffee at some point in the near future. 

The apartment somehow seems empty sans one very small kitten, and Remus can feel Sirius’ lingering presence for how loud it was. He can’t shake the magnetism that still affects the air or the grin that threatened to spill off Sirius’ face. It was perhaps one of the most memorable first meetings he can recall since no one else has ever launched themselves into his flat after a cat that had done the same thing three weeks prior. The aftermath of what was generally a short affair still has his skin thrumming and Remus wishes Sharktopus was there to gather his attention. 

Instead he makes tea and starts reading a book for one of his classes, convincing himself that he’ll be able to focus better on school without Sharktopus padding around in his lap. Its obviously ineffective after five minutes when Remus finds his mind wandering to Sirius and Sharktopus, alternating between missing the cat and being fascinated about the owner.

Luckily he’s already halfway to giving up on his book when his phone goes off with a text message. Its an unknown number but the message identifies it as Sirius right away.

_Sharktopus is looking at me like I’m not the light of her life anymore. Did you change my cat’s allegiance?_

Remus snorts to himself and the book is discarded on the couch before he can even think about it, already tapping out a reply.

_Maybe she realized what better name options she has other than Sharktopus._

The reply is instant: _Wow I thought we were going to be friends but its clear now that you’re much more awful than I originally anticipated._

Remus considers this. _How awful did you originally anticipate me being?_

 _Just awful enough to be interesting without being cruel._ Then, before he can reply, _But it looks like you’re positively evil. Ah well, it was good while it lasted, however short lived. I’ll tell Sharktopus you moved to Spain to make it easier on her_. 

Remus is still laughing at this when he hears the familiar sounds of a key being turned in the lock and quickly schools his face in preparation.

“Mary says you have a hot date,” Peter announces when he steps through the front door. He immediately starts scanning the apartment with a critical eye, even going so far as to lean over and investigate under the couch.

“And what, you think I killed him and hid the body because I’m that emotionally stunted?” Remus snarks on autopilot before he realizes what Peter said. “Wait, how did you know I had a date?”

Peter stops his survey of the room and crosses his arms. “Mary says that if Grey is gone, you have a hot date. Is her owner a sexy, single person?”

He thinks about Sirius’ grey eyes watching him with some kind of unprecedented reverence and the petulantly beautiful way he made rolling around on the floor look. Defensively, he says, “I suppose.”

Peter crows in triumph and drops down on the couch next to Remus to beg him for details, alternating between asking about Grey and Remus’ date.

“Its not a date,” Remus manages to say through Peter’s questions, clutching at his phone still. “Its just a thank you coffee.”

It doesn’t sound very convincing, judging by the flat expression Peter is levelling him with. If Remus were more optimistic these days, he would admit that perhaps the coffee could turn into a date, or become an opportunity to ask Sirius on one officially. But he couldn’t assume that Sirius would agree to it, no matter how many lingering looks he directed at Remus or the easy way they bantered through text.

Not to mention that Remus simply doesn’t have time to date someone as clearly attention demanding as Sirius.

Still, he lingers over the idea and the brief introduction to Sirius infiltrates his mindset, bouncing Remus between being irritated by him and achingly fascinated by him. Overall, he concludes, there is too much thought going into a person who Remus has only met for five minutes before taking his cat and texting him about being an awful person. 

“I just returned his cat to him,” Remus voices out loud in a firm voice, more trying to tell himself than Peter, who rolls his eyes. “That’s it.” 

“Remember that when you’re shagging him on the couch,” Peter says, patting his knee and heading for his room.

“That was one time!” Remus shouts, coloring slightly at the memory.

“Once is enough,” Peter sings back and closes the door. The text alert on Remus’ phone pings in agreement.

\--

It turns out Sirius doesn’t even live in his building.

“My roommate James and I were visiting his parents for the week,” explains Sirius as he nudges Remus’ hand away when he tries to pay for his coffee. “They’re like parents to me and they’ve been sick, so we try to visit. Anyway, we sort of know Marlene through some mutual friends I guess. I think through Mary, since Mary makes friends with everyone. She’s pretty great for an old lady, like did you know she used to work for Interpool? Or at least she says she did. I’m pretty sure she did political killings for them, but don’t tell her I said that.”

Remus snorts out a laugh at that because Marlene McKinnon definitely seemed like the type of person who would be an assassin but still be offended if you suggested it.

They settle at a table near the window and Remus watches Sirius talk with wide, energetic gestures. Sirius texted him frequently enough with updates about Sharktopus and snarky banter for Remus to know that he talks a lot, but seeing Sirius actually speak is entirely different. He does it with his whole body and its almost exhausting to witness the way he never stops moving. Its as if the energy in him can’t be contained, bursting out in his hands as he moves them and in his eyes as he looks brightly at Remus.

“So Marlene agreed to watch Sharktopus for us while we were gone,” Sirius is saying, and he’s so enthused by his own story Remus can’t help but grin at him. Sirius’ energy is infectious. “But when we got back she said that she escaped. Marlene said she would have gone after Sharktopus, but that her old lady bones or whatever were too creaky for it, which was obviously a lie but its hard to be mad at someone like Marlene. Mostly because I’m afraid she’s going to knock my knee caps out but also because she’s a beautiful old broad, you know? So we just told her and Mary and Lily to keep an eye out for her in case she was still in the building.”

“You weren’t worried when she was gone for two weeks?” asks Remus, remembering the chastisement he was going to serve him about abandoning kittens to potential cult leaders.

“‘Course I was worried,” Sirius replies, sounding sincere in a way that makes any of Remus’ reprimands melt away. “But I guess I’m just a hopeless believer she’ll find her way back to me. Plus I could never get another cat to replace her, I’m too loyal to her now that we’ve bonded.”

Sirius has his head tilted as he smiles at Remus, and the sunlight filters in through the cafe window behind Remus to shine directly in his face, making Sirius just glow all over. He doesn’t even seem to notice the sun in his eyes because he’s too busy grinning at Remus. Though to be fair, Remus isn’t better off with the way he’s just looking back with an uncontrollable dopey smile.

Its in this moment inside the the sun drenched cafe that Remus can indulge in the stirring sensation Sirius’s gaze has created low in his belly. He hasn’t dated much since his mum died, electing instead to focus on work, college, and the lingering hospital bills floating over his head.

Now it seems almost easy to let Sirius ramble on about his life while his coffee grows cool, bumping their knees together every now and then until Remus’ stomach is knotted with butterflies that feel practically rabid in their intensity. They snark at each other easily because Sirius can’t keep a single thought quietly in his head and Remus enjoys the pleased smirk Sirius shoots him when he interjects Sirius’ rambling with a scathing comment.

This and the way Sirius talks fondly about Sharktopus before asking Remus all kinds of things about his life, makes him comfortable and easy. Even though Sirius is unrestrained and overly bold it feels difficult to hold any kind of annoyance against him for very long.

Its also possibly the first time in months where Remus doesn’t think about money. Sirius doesn’t seem to have any concept of it, living off his uncle’s inheritance and his roommate’s fortune while working odd jobs around the city. Everything about him is careless and borderline obnoxious, and Remus can’t figure out why that seems to comfort him instead of annoy him. Remus knows he’s been neurotic about his responsibilities lately, so he considers it strange that Sirius of all people would be someone whose company he wants to stay in.

He mentions taking classes at the university and Remus wonders how he could have missed a person like Sirius walking around all this time. Its feel a bit like looking up for the first time and realizing the sun is in the sky.

“I forget to go to classes most of the time,” Sirius shrugs. “I suppose I’m not on campus regularly.”

“Don’t you worry about your grades?” Remus can’t imagine failing a class and wasting the tuition money, not when his loans are already astronomical.

“I’m the kind of student most people hate,” Sirius’ mouth twists into a sly expression and Remus’ insides twist with it. “I don’t go to class but show up and ace the tests.”

“So you’re a lazy genius,” Remus can’t help his glare attached to the comment because of course Sirius would be good at everything without any effort.

“Sounds about right,” Sirius ignores Remus’ tone and leans forward, their knees brushing again. “I bet you’re a hard worker though.”

It sounds dirty and even though he’s sure its not, Remus sets him with an unimpressed deadpan.

“Tell me about what aspiration made you sell your soul to loan collectors,” Sprawled out in his chair with limbs haphazardly strewn, Sirius looks like he’s all too comfortable to sit and listen to Remus’ entire mundane life story for the rest of the afternoon. He’s never been eager to talk about himself with people, always feeling like his autobiography sounds like a list of complaints against how the world has mistreated him.

But with Sirius regarding him like anything Remus could say would be fascinating, he wants to take the opportunity to tell him about his mother’s hospital bills and his semi-boring library job and how he’s thinking about dropping school for a semester or two to pick up a second job for extra money. He wants to unburden every piece of his life into Sirius’ scattered, manic brain. Somehow Remus is sure that if he spills everything to this stranger, the tension in his shoulders will lift even more than what they already have under Sirius’ attention.

For once in his life, Remus decides not to overthink it. Sirius is still beaming at him expectantly, so Remus takes a sip of the long-cold coffee and says, “What do you want to know?”

\--

The moment he walks into the room, Peter asks him how the date went.

“Wasn’t a date,” Remus says as he walks to the kitchen to see if any of the Chinese food is still there.

“Was,” Peter corrects snarkily, which means he’s in a good mood. Remus frowns, both at the empty fridge and Peter’s insistence. When he turns, Peter is slurping the lo mein into his mouth with a smirk.

“I’m moving out,” declares Remus immediately. They both know its a lie because neither can afford rent without the other and Remus is already shoving Peter over on the couch to steal noodles from the carton.

“Is he a dick?” Peter asks, magnanimously letting Remus have the broccoli. “Lily says he’s a dick but she said it sort of fondly so I assumed it was alright.”

“He’s obnoxious,” Remus confirms. “He never shuts up and he takes up too much space and never seems to work hard for anything because its all just  _given_ to him.”

“Lily says he’s had a troubled life,” says Peter like an offering and this makes Remus frown because though they talked for hours, Sirius didn’t mention anything about his childhood. Still, it didn’t seem like anything difficult had affected him with the casual way he acted about life. “She says he’s  _complex_ .”

“I’ll give her that,” mutters Remus. “Why are you talking to Lily so much?”

“I’m being friendly,” Peter says perkily, proudly. He surrenders the rest of the food to Remus and props up his feet on the scratched coffee table. “It sounds like you like him anyway.”

He’s not sure how Peter came to this conclusion considering the only things Remus has said were negative. However Peter possesses a detailed eye that was capable of sorting out what people really meant between the words they said, and with Remus this came easiest since they lived together. If Remus wanted to pretend like Sirius was just an aggravating bastard who he had no hopes of actually dating, Peter would be there to point out how he was still attracted to him regardless. This made it difficult for Remus to tamp down the lingering curiosity Sirius inspired him with because Peter’s specialty was asking questions and forcing Remus to admit to things he was adept at ignoring himself.

“I doubt we’ll be very good friends,” Remus settles with dryly. His roommate rolls his eyes.

“Well I doubt you’ll be  _friends_ as well,” Peter insinuates heavily. “I think he’ll be good for you anyway, especially if he’s as wild as a Lily makes him out to be.”

“I don’t need someone  _wild_ ,” Remus says, already annoyed. “I have bills to pay and a work schedule to follow. I’m too exhausted to keep up with someone wild.”

This seems to just prove Peter’s point, judging by the knowing look he’s shooting Remus.

“I just mean it would be good for you to step out of your routine,” Peter says, nonchalantly picking at a ribbon one of them had bought for Grey. “All you do is work and school and nothing else. No fun. It's partially my fault, since I’m not very outgoing myself, but I’m working on being less shy and you’re working yourself into sleep exhaustion.”

Peter’s statement jolts Remus unexpectedly. Sure there had been a little more sleepless nights lately, but he hadn’t thought it was so obvious. He was doing his best to juggle all his responsibilities because a single drop would be detrimental and Remus couldn’t afford that. Literally. Since his mum had died, following his father by a year, Remus was saddled with her hospital bills on top of his own student loans.

If he stuck to his boring routine it was because he didn’t have another choice.

“It doesn’t matter,” Peter breaks into his thoughts nonchalantly. “At least agree if he asks you out thought, so you’ll get a couple free dinners out of it.”

\--

To Remus:  _Do you have a brother?_

To Sirius: _No, why?_

To Remus: _Just wondering if there was a Romulus to your Remus._

To Sirius: _Nope. Do you have a brother?_

To Sirius: _Oh so I have to answer your questions but you don’t have to answer mine? Seems a bit unbalanced._

\--

Remus is picking up an extra shift at the library and working on reshelving a host of medical journals the grad students had left strewn about when he glances up and freezes. Walking toward him is Sirius, looking somehow both ill placed and well at ease in the library.

“Hello,” Sirius says cheerfully once Remus has watched him walk all the way up and come to a halt next Remus’ bookcart. When he leans casually against it, Remus tries to stamp down the flutter at how easily attractive he looks like that and all the things it could lead to when its just the two of them in the back corner of the library like this.

Remus is suddenly acutely aware he hasn't had sex in a year.

“Hi,” is what Remus voices instead. “What brings you here?”

Sirius digs his hand in his pocket and Remus resolutely does not look at the slip of skin it reveals, focusing rather on the phone that gets shoved in his face.

“Just thought I’d swing by and give you an update,” Sirius says as Remus blinks at the picture of Sharktopus on the phone. She’s lying on her back napping, tiny feet up in the air in the lazy way Remus is familiar with. It makes his heart ache a little, despite only having her for two weeks. “She misses you.”

“Yes it looks like she’s really losing sleep over me,” Remus retorts dryly because in his core he knows he’s a shit.

Grinning, Sirius swipes through a couple more pictures for Remus’ benefit before pocketing the phone. Its watching him lean against the cart again that Remus remembers where they are.

“Wait, how do you know where I work?” He’s certain he didn’t mention the library name when they had coffee and there were half a dozen in the city.

At this, Sirius’ grey eyes go wide momentarily before he straightens off the cart and coughs. “I’ve seen you here before.”

Remus tilts his head. “I don’t remember seeing you here.” Even if he had missed meeting Sirius on campus, he would remember someone like him walking into the library, he’s sure of it. Sirius’ presence is loud and magnetic: just by walking silently past he’d garnered the attention of several people sitting in the library. Even his simple lounging against the books made the back corner seem tight and overwhelming where previously it was calm and silent.

But the other man is shrugging with a rueful smile and saying, “I came in here with James a bit before last semester when he was trying to woo Lily. You never really looked our way I guess.”

“I would --” Remus bites off what he wants to say:  _I would look your way, how could I not_ . “I would remember you.”

Somehow that doesn’t seem any less revealing, but Sirius’ beam is searing and its like the sun has somehow filtered into their dim corner. Everything becomes deafening, but the library is pressed with its same quiet.

After several seconds, Remus clears his throat and snaps his eyes away, shamefully aware he’s been staring at Sirius again and the slow burn it creates under his skin. He resumes shelving, letting Sirius hand him books as he blocks the cart.

“I was thinking,” Sirius says as Remus reaches to shove a medical journal in its place on the top shelf. “You should come over and visit with Sharktopus.”

Mentally, Remus practically leaps to tamp down the flare this suggestion causes. He allows himself a small smile and says, “Alright.”

“Since she misses you so much,” Sirius says, like an afterthought.

Remus nods, “Right.”

They grin at each other until Remus remembers he’s working and reaches for another book. If he takes a little longer reshelving than normal, well that has absolutely nothing to do with how captivating his conversations with Sirius are.

\--

Its not a date.

Its not.

There is no dating happening here.

This is what Remus is chanting to himself on the bus ride to Sirius’ flat. He’s careful to keep his mouth pressed shut as he continues the mantra, since he’d accidentally muttered it on his way out and earned a pitying eye roll from Peter. He continues the thought though, because he needs the anxiety that’s somehow welling up in him to die down before he knocks on Sirius’ door and does something stupid like kiss him.

_Not_ a date.

Its just Remus going over to make sure Sharktopus is alright. Conceding to the embarrassing name doesn’t mean Remus has cleared his reservations that Sirius contained the attention span to take care of her. While he seemed to mean well and was overly earnest in everything he did, Sirius was still edged with an air of danger and recklessness to him that indicated he would forget to feed her or something.

Plus Remus can admit that he misses her, since he was ready to keep her until Sirius showed up.

“Does this feel like shared custody to you?” Sirius asks in lieu of hello when he flings open the door.

“Are you implying that we have married and divorced?” Remus asks with a carefully placed look. “Because that’s rather complex for two people who have only had coffee together once.”

Sirius is delighted, as always, that Remus has shot sarcasm at him.

“Maybe in a past life,” he says with a little dramatic swoon that Remus can’t help but scoff at. “Do you want to be Daddy or Papa?”

It sounds like a loaded question so Remus neatly side steps it with a nonchalant, “Whichever.”

Sirius is beaming at him when Sharktopus mewls loudly from the couch and catches Remus’ attention. He bends to stroke her affectionately as she arches up to bat at his arm in hello.

“Make yourself comfortable,” Sirius says, already launching himself at the end of the couch to push his limbs out and take up space. Remus perches on the other end and Sharktopus immediately jumps into his lap, stomping in her usual circle before digging her head into his stomach and curling up. Sirius gives them a wry grin, “Adorable.”

The flat is messier than his and Peter’s, Remus notices when he takes a moment to glance around. There’s a guitar in a corner and an ancient looking telly set up nearby. Books, papers, and magazines are strewn in stacks around the room, as if cleanliness was a stray afterthought only half attempted. An ashtray littered with cigarettes occupies the table, as well as various hobbies: paints and canvases abandoned next to the window, stacks of half written journals next to the couch, stained cookbooks ignored on a spare shelf, even a thrifted, ancient architect’s drafting table shoved into the living corner. Remus attempts to decide which hobbies are attached to Sirius when he suddenly realizes that they all are. They’re reflections of Sirius’ erratic interests and had all been abandoned at one point or another.

Remus wishes he had the means and luxury to experiment with so many different crafts and envies Sirius irrationally as he stares at the drafting table.

“That was a gift from the Potters,” Sirius says, following Remus’ eye. “They always tend to encourage whatever fancy I have in hopes it’ll lead to an actual career. Alas, I continue to disappoint parental figures.”

This gets Remus’ attention as he remembers what Peter said about Sirius’ alleged troubled past. He’s opening his mouth to ask about it when Sharktopus stretches and digs her claws into the softness of his belly and distracts him.

“Be nice,” he chides her. “I’m only here for a bit.”

 She blinks up at him, unimpressed.

“She’s been cranky,” Sirius says. “I think she probably wants to see you more.”

Remus smiles and ducks his head toward Sharktopus to hide it.

“We could arrange that,” he agrees when she turns away from him to curl up again. He strokes her absently and eyes Sirius. “So do you want to tell me about the multitude of talents you’re hiding?”

 Sirius snorts and glances around the living room, taking everything in. “I’m not talented. I just get bored and like to try new things.”

“What’s been your favorite so far?”

He hums a little in thought and drops his head back against the sofa. Remus peeks at the line of his throat that’s exposed until Sirius speaks again. “Art, I suppose. And the boxing was fun.”

“What kind of art?” Remus’ throat is dry and when he darts his eyes up, Sirius is smirking at him.

“Mostly sketching nowadays,” Sirius says. “Though I haven’t in a while. I’ve mostly been marathoning monster movies in chronological order.”

That pitches Remus’ interest and they wind up sprawled out on the couch for at least two and a half movies, Sharktopus sleeping at their feet. They order pizza and Sirius drags out a blanket that they share, Remus hyper aware of all the places they’re touching. Its all strangely domestic and Remus regrets his inability to keep his eyes open by the third movie. Sirius notices the way his head is pitching forward and nudges him with a smile.

“I suppose I should go before I fall asleep on your couch,” Remus says, slow to extract himself from the blanket and Sirius’ proximity.

“I suppose,” Sirius echos thoughtfully. The movie plays in the background, some terrible thing from the seventies that’s casting flickering shadows on his face, dulling the sharpness of his bone structure and coaxing out the light in his considering eyes.

Sirius just watches him and distantly Remus thinks this could be a moment when one of them could move forward and --

The monster on the screen gives a terrible roar, met with a girl’s piercing scream that breaks through the air and startles them both in blinking away. Sirius wordlessly mutes the movie, but the air is oppressively silent now and Remus can feels where Sirius’ hand is twitching under the blanket, near his.  

Remus swallows dryly. “Right then.”

When he stumbles home, its late but Peter is still awake and eating cereal. A knowing grin curls around his spoon from his perch on the counter as he regards Remus, who already knows what Peter is going to say.

“Still not a date then?” he asks, and Remus replies by firmly closing his bedroom door.

\--

Lily corners him in the stairwell as Remus is going to work. She’s smiling at him, but it somehow feels predatory and Remus vaguely wonders if he should be on his guard.

“Mary’s birthday is coming up,” she says in greeting. “Are you free for her surprise party next Saturday?”

Remus tells her he is, already calculating what he could find for her that would be cheap without seeming so.

“Wonderful,” Lily smiles wider, the effect of bearing her teeth. “Its at my boyfriend’s place.”

“Alright.” Remus has never met Lily’s boyfriend, though he’s not sure why she looks like she’s gleefully trapped him into something.

“His name is James,” says Lily with chipper causality. “James Potter. I think you know his --”

“Sirius,” Remus breathes, because he had talked about his roommate James for at least an hour at the cafe.

“His Sirius, yes,” Lily agrees happily. They reach the door and Lily bounds past him, clapping him on the shoulder gently and wiggling her fingers at him in a wave. “Anyway, be glad I warned you beforehand instead of letting you get blindsided like James told me to. I’ll get you the details later, yeah?”

With that, she’s gone into the early morning, leaving Remus blinking after her.

\--

Remus enjoys school but never has time to fully immerse himself in it when he’s always working. There was a time when Remus turned to school as solstice, letting books divert him from his mother’s ailment and his father’s detachment. Part of the reason why he was grateful for his library job aside from its paycheck was because Remus always felt a little less lonely surrounded by books.

Now, however, he can’t afford distractions and when his teacher education class is cancelled, he’s glad for the opportunity to work extra hours. He’s pulling out his phone to call his supervisor and yanking at his book bag simultaneously when an alert catches his eye.

An unknown number has texted him, which almost never happens, so he opens it curiously.

_I’m so excited you’re coming to the party!!_ it says.

Before Remus can type out the question, his phone pings again and the next text says, _This is James Potter, by the way. Boyfriend and roommate._

_But not to the same person._

_Sirius is all yours._

_Lily gave me your number, by the way._

Remus stares at the phone as the messages keep popping up until there’s a slight lull.

_And here I was hoping to continue the exciting mystery of whether you really exist_ , he types out, oozing with sarcasm he hopes translates on the screen. With friends like Lily and Sirius, he doubts he would be offended. James immediately responds.

_Oh you’re fun, this is going to be fun._

_I’m just excited to officially meet the librarian that’s made our self-described badass blush so much._

This makes Remus flush as well, and James is already moving on, texting him details of the address and time of the party. Remus collects the information and forwards it to Peter before thanking James, who seems to enjoy texting every thought separately so that Remus’ phone blows up with incoming texts. Its slightly erratic in a way that reminds him of Sirius, but still somehow neater than any of the jumbled texts Sirius has sent him because unlike Sirius, James is content to hold one conversation thread at a time.

Their exchange doesn’t last long: James types out a few more messages that gently mock Sirius while expressing his eagerness to meet Remus, then sends a farewell with a smiley face.

Its not until Remus is settled on the bus toward the library does he realize that James intends to be his _friend_ , and Remus has never had this many friends before.

He tries not to connect this burst of social life with Sirius’ appearance in his life but fails spectacularly.

\--

To Remus:  _Are you a dictionary because you add meaning to my life._

To Sirius:  _...What._

To Remus:  _That’s one of the pick up puns James tried on Lily._

To Sirius:  _I’m shocked that worked on her. It wouldn’t on me._

To Remus:  _Guess I’ll just have to keep trying then._

\--

When he opens the door, Sirius is standing there with Sharktopus poking her head out of a wide knit bag.

“Sharktopus and Hyperion have a playdate,” Sirius blurts before Remus can ask him why he’s there.

“Okay,” Remus says slowly. “Who is Hyperion?”

“Lily’s cat,” Sirius says. Between them, Sharktopus has nestled back into the bag, apparently bored of their conversation. “Um, I told her I’d bring Sharktopus over. I think she’s hoping they’ll fall in love so she can make a metaphor about it being her and James.”

“Okay,” Remus repeats, still not quite sure why Sirius is at his door. “Lily lives on the fourth floor.”

“Yeah, sure does,” Sirius gives a little hysterical noise and Sharktopus responds with a muffled little sigh that sounds like she’s exasperated with him. “I just got the times mixed up and she’s not actually home yet, so I was wondering…”

Wordlessly, Remus widens the door enough for Sirius to slip in gratefully. Once her bag is on the ground, Sharktopus immediately leaps out and makes her way around the apartment as if inspecting that everything is the same. Apparently satisfied, she curls up on the window sill and observes them intently as if waiting.

“She’s a bit too intelligent for a cat,” Remus says as she squints at them expectantly. Sirius makes a noise of agreement.

“She clawed at me the other day when I was reaching for another cigarette,” he says as Remus leads him to sit down. “I’m suppose to quit but James is rubbish at making sure I only have four a day. But Sharktopus seems to just know and practically gouged my fingers.”

He holds up his hand to show them and Remus fixates at the long, slender fingers that indeed are marred with not only thin red scratches, but charcoal as well. Attempting not to stare because staring would lead to thoughts and thoughts would be inappropriate, Remus lets out a steadying breath.

“Are you doing art?” he asks, indicating the charcoal marks on Sirius’ hands.

“Yeah, I’ve been inspired lately,” Sirius shrugs with his whole body per usual and melts into the couch, looking at ease even as he thrums with energy. “I started out with pencils but the charcoal gives the sketches an edge I like.”

“Could I see them sometime?” Remus is genuinely curious because Sirius seems effortlessly talented but unable to concentrate on anything long enough for a finished project.

“Sure,” Sirius’s mouth twitches up crookedly. “They’re… Yeah, alright, that’d be okay.”

They chat like that for an hour, discussing what gift Mary would appreciate besides plant seeds and arguing about a book they had both read for freshman composition. Somehow they end up sitting right next to each other, knees pressed together as Sirius unconsciously braiding pieces of his long hair and Remus recounts the exact novel passage he’s unabashedly memorized for debates like this.

He doesn’t realize how long they’ve been talking or how close they’ve drifted until Sirius reluctantly picks himself up with a comment about Lily probably being home by now. Remus stands as well and watches as Sirius attempts to cajole Sharktopus into the bag while she glowers at him. Cooing at her, Sirius manages to get her into the open bag and slings it over his shoulder before turning to where Remus is opening the door reluctantly.

He’s throwing Remus a rueful grin and brushing past when Remus suddenly asks, “What do you draw?”

Sirius stops and looks at him with an unreadable expression. “Just whatever inspires me, I guess.”

“Like what?”

He shrugs, but his eyes are crinkled with amusement. “James says my art’s less sad these days.”

Crinkling his nose, Remus says, “That wasn’t answer.”

“Yes it was,” Sirius laughs and with a final glance, disappears down the hall.

\--

To Remus: _James and Lily are arguing about Plato’s Symposium_

To Sirius: _What’s the argument?_

To Remus:  _J thinks that Phaedrus is right because he thinks acts of bravery prove love. L thinks that Eryximachus is right because she thinks love is a power that permeates everything, brave or not._

To Sirius:  _What do you think?_

To Remus:  _I think they’re arguing the same thing without realizing it, but I always liked Alcibiades’ speech best, even if it was all swooning over Socrates._

To Sirius:  _I don’t think there’s suppose to be a wholistic take away from the Symposium. I think its suppose to offer all the different facets of love and make you think about its complexity._

To Remus:  _See, that’s why I keep you around, Remus. Unfortunately I can’t interject as I have used up my weekly allotted argument two days ago when we were deciding what take out to get._

To Sirius:  _Shame_ .

To Remus:  _But worth it. We got Indian._

\--

Peter texts him that he’s running late but on his way because he doesn’t like going to new places without being paired with someone he knows, a sentiment Remus agrees with but is currently frustrated with because they were all suppose to gather at James and Sirius’ flat fifteen minutes ago to surprise Mary.

Remus just wants to see Mary’s shocked face, is all. His impatience has nothing to do with anyone else who may or may not actually live at the flat. Nope.

By the time they approach the building James and Sirius live in, Remus and Peter are a half hour late but Sirius had texted him to say Mary wasn’t there yet so they were still in time for the actual surprise part. Peter is shifting nervously next to him, still too shy and socially anxious to feel properly comfortable, so Remus knocks.

The door swings open almost immediately and someone with dark messy hair and glasses is grinning at them.

“Hey Remus!” James greets with an enthused yell as if they’ve known each other for years. He goes forward and has Remus wrapped in in a brief hug before Remus can move. James pulls back, still beaming as if its his birthday instead. “Its great to finally meet you.”

Remus doesn’t have time to respond before James is turning to greet Peter as well, hug included.

They’re ushered inside and Remus only recognizes half the crowd at a quick glance; even then he’s not on close terms with any of them. Its suddenly more obvious how detached he and Peter are where its just them in their apartment, allowing the other to forgo socializing in favor of eating takeout on the couch. The routine is fine, he thinks, but unlikely to help either of them expand beyond the comfortable bubbles they’ve settled into.

Sirius has disrupted all of that, Remus realizes with a start.

James has an arm thrown around Peter, chatting at him and asking the people nearest if they know Peter or Remus. Peter shakes minutely in nerves, so Remus shoots him a confident smile to calm him. When he returns to scan the room, he finds Sirius has appeared in a doorway to gaze at him across the crowd. They catch eyes and Remus watches, mesmerized, as Sirius’ smile blooms across his face.

With a wink, Sirius jerks his head in a clear indication for Remus to come over. He’s headed forward without thinking about it, barely remembering to glance over his shoulder to make sure Peter will be okay as James introduces him to everyone.

Sirius has disappeared into his bedroom so Remus follows suit, closing the door softly behind him and looking around. It's messier than the rest of the apartment, but the chaos fits in with Sirius’ personality.

His bedroom is a shrine to each hobby he’s seemed to indulge in. Drumsticks stick out of a vintage, ugly vase on his nightstand, which is coated in a fine layer of smudged ash from where he smokes out the window. Streaks of paint curiously adorn only a foot wide space of only one wall, which are all otherwise haphazardly papered in posters and drawings. Even the trash decorates the room: cigarette cartons half finished, broken lighters, ticket stubs, charcoal stained sketchbooks, and papers everywhere. His closet belches out clothes and odd things alluded to more half-finished entertainments, and there’s a lipstick smudge on his mirror.

The bedsheets spill to the ground in twists, his carpet is scattered with books of all kinds, and nestled on the bed is Sharktopus, observing Remus steadily. It was a bedroom as loud as Sirius. Remus can’t hold on to any semblance of disgust at the messiness because he’s far too interested in several different things that keep catching his eye, begging for a story to be told. It’s overall extremely comfortable, despite the clutter, and Remus settles down on the edge of the bed without having to be cajoled.

“She’s detained in here for the party,” Sirius explains unnecessarily, throwing his body down on the bed next to Remus in his usual unbothered way and passing him a bottle of tequila. The bed is only a twin size, so they’re close and Sirius’ elbow brushes Remus’ when he produces a laser pointer from his pocket. “Shacklebolt is allergic, though I don’t know how he’s going to stay when she’s shed everywhere anyway.”

“I live down the hall from him,” Remus says since he doesn’t know what else to say, distracted from the flare spreading low in the base of his spine from being so close -- on a bed no less. Sirius spares him an amused look from where he’s guiding the red dot for Sharktopus to chase. Remus remembers the bottle in his hand and takes a swallow.

“Yes, I know,” Sirius says. “That’s why we invited him. Mary’s friends with everyone as you may have noticed.”

“Right,” Remus watches Sharktopus dart forward but the laser just zooms away. “Pete and I are trying harder at that these days.”

“You could do well with getting to know Shacklebolt,” says Sirius, nipping the bottle to swig at it before passing it back. “He works in government so that could be useful if you ever get into a bind or want to lobby your way into a job.”

Remus rolls his eyes and Sirius leads the laser to rest on Remus’ hipbone so Sharktopus will attack it. Glaring, he snatches the laser away and Sirius and Sharktopus both pout at him until he presses the button to bait her with.

They sit like that for a while, pressed together and forgetting about the party in favor of laughing as Sharktopus attacks the mattress in chase of the laser and exchanging the tequila between them. Remus aims the dot on Sirius’ kneecap and he lets out a bark of laughter when she jumps on it, tickling him. Snickering, Remus lands it on the expanse of black shirt Sirius is wearing and Sharktopus follows in suit, glaring when Sirius’ laugh almost dislodges her. He brings a hand down and strokes her apologetically, arm pressing into Remus more firmly.

It's like the coffee shop again, where he’s acutely aware at this pocket of a moment is when something could happen, when something should happen. He knows all he needs to do was press their arms a little closer together and twitch his hand to take Sirius’. He knows he could lean over and kiss Sirius without being pushed away. It would be easy, with the alcohol starting to lightly hum under his skin and in his mind. Something about this moment is achingly domestic, and it's not hard to imagine being like this with Sirius on a regular basis.

Something anchors him to the bed though, clutching at the forgotten laser pointer as he watches Sirius tickle Sharktopus until she nips at him.

"Sirius," he says carefully without even knowing what words are coming out of his mouth. "What happened with your parents?"

The impact is instantaneous. Sirius doesn't freeze, but he stills his usual twitching so it seems just as obvious as if he had stiffened his entire body.

"I told you, they're sick," says Sirius in an off tone.

"No, not them," Remus knows he's overstepping, saying the wrong thing, but he can't help the words that keep marching off his tongue without his permission. "The Black family."

Sirius lets out a derisive tone voluntarily and looks slowly at Remus. His eyes are darkened like a storm brewing.

"They disowned me," says Sirius, shrugging a shoulder in the picture of nonchalant that doesn't meet his eyes or match his voice. "Years ago, when I was fifteen."

"Why?" Remus feels icy all over, wants to halt the conversation but can't. "What did you do?"

This is clearly the wrong thing to say because Sirius sits up and narrows his eyes dangerously.

"What makes you think it was my fault?"

Remus doesn't know how to answer because he never meant to say it.

“It wasn’t my fault,” Sirius says and the end of the sentence is choked, like its not something he says or even really believes. Remus’ heart _aches_ for him.

“I’m sure it wasn’t,” Remus says quietly. Sharktopus has sensed the tension and shrinks back, tracking them almost apprehensively from the foot of the bed. “I’m sorry.”

“Its fine,” Sirius mutters. “Don’t know why you want to know anyway. Its not like its your business.”

Its like Remus has been slapped.

“No,” he says coolly, sliding off the bed. The sudden switch between feeling quietly contrite and blazingly angry has his head is starting to spin. When he glances down, the tequila bottle is somehow half empty from where its clutched in his hand. “I suppose its not.”

Sirius looks up at him and outside the door, the party becomes suspiciously quiet.

“What is it then?” Sirius asks sourly, voicing edging on loud. “Want to know the exact details of how fucked up I am so you can have a reason to not date me?”

This has Remus snarling with sudden fury that blindsides him so much he’s reeling. “As if you’ve even  _asked_ . As if there aren’t a million other reasons anyway.”

He means it in the way that Remus is too busy with work and school, but a part of him also means it in the way he’s been convincing himself with reasons to not fall for Sirius: all the obnoxious, irresponsible things about Sirius that makes him a liability to have in his life.

“Well fuck you then,” Sirius, already risen off the bed to square off at him. “I’m glad you’ve cleared that up! Thanks so much for tolerating my presence for Sharktopus’ sake. Get the fuck out, asshole.”

Remus is already halfway to the door by the end, and winds up stepping out just as two dozen people call out, “Happy Birthday!”

He ignores this in stride, hearing Sirius’ door slam shut behind him over the din of the party as Mary walks in, face lit up with delight as Lily trails after her. Immediately, Remus takes a couple pulls from the tequila, relishing the burn as it sears down. It does nothing to dissolve the brick settled in his stomach, or the iciness of his skin, or the hard lump in his throat. He drinks again.

Peter’s face shifts from laughing to worried the moment Remus steps up to him. With a start, Remus realizes that Mary, Lily, and James are all grouped together with him as well. Graciously, he grins at Mary with an easiness he doesn’t feel anywhere in him.

“Happy birthday,” says Remus, allowing her to beam and bring him in for a brief hug. He wallows a moment in her perfume and the softness of her tanned arms before she pulls away. “Did Peter give you our present?”

“Poppy seeds,” Mary nods happily. “I’ve been wanting to grow those for years but haven’t had the space, so thank you!”

“Where’s Sirius?” James asks, and Remus feels his face shift without his permission. It only takes a glance for James to mutter, “shit” under his breath and sweep away toward Sirius’ bedroom.

“What’s happened between you and Sirius?” Mary looks crestfallen and his stomach twists in guilt for dampening her birthday.

The faces around him are getting hazier by the second and the bottle still in his hand weighs considerably lighter. Still, he manages to muster the firmest voice he can to answer her with, aiming to be honest and not let Mary worry at the same time.

“Nothing’s happened,” he says with conviction. “Now, before, or ever.”

Remus knows immediately he’s made a mistake when he turns his head and Lily is staring at him sharply.

“Remus,” Lily levels with him a stare that makes him feel like he’s being boiled inside out. “Listen to me very carefully.”

He nods and Lily keeps squinting at him critically to make sure he’s paying attention before speaking purposely.

“I have never had the desire to set up a playdate for my cat,” she says steadily.

Remus isn’t stupid and the implication shocks him, turning his skin ice cold then burning hot in the same second. “Oh.”

“Yes,  _oh_ ,” Lily says, slightly kinder. The party jostles around them; people touch Mary’s shoulder to greet her so she has to half turn to chat with them, though still clearly invested in what Lily is saying. Remus ignores all of them in favor of the sympathetic but expectant expression Lily is fixing him with. He wonders if he appears as drunk as he’s starting to feel. “Are you going to do something about it?”

“I’m not --”

“Remus, before James and I started dating he used to stalk me in the library,” Lily says over his weak protest. “He would drag Sirius down to sit across the room and sit for an hour before coming up to me to say something stupid and charming. While he was telling me shitty puns, thinking it would constitute as decent flirting, Sirius was left to sit at a table in the library alone. Now does that sound like something Sirius would do every week for a month?”

“No,” Remus says, though it was probably rhetorical. Mary keeps looking over her shoulder at him.

“No,” Lily confirms. “But he still did it. And do you know why he accompanied James every week aside from the fact that they’re borderline emotionally codependent?”

“Um.”

“I’ll let you figure that out,” Lily says steadily, her voice edging on impatient. “Better yet, go ask him yourself. It’ll be good for both of you.”

“Lily you’re suppose to let him go on the emotional journey,” Mary lightly chastises her, breaking away from the latest well wisher. “For personal growth.”

“You put steroids in your flowerpots,” Lily says without a beat. “This is just like that; I’m giving them a nudge along.”

Luckily Peter gives a little yawn then and says, voice full of exhaustion Remus realizes is feigned, “Well that’s all lovely but I’ve got to be getting to bed. We’re not used to this kind of exposure to social events.” He turns to smile at Remus and this is why they’re friends. “Ready to go?”

Remus nods wordlessly, jaw still clenching as Peter bids farewell to Lily and Mary. He sets the tequila bottle on the nearest table and ignores at how little there is left of it.

He doesn’t look at the bedroom, knowing the door is still firmly closed to him.

\--

Remus wakes up with a headache and someone sitting on him. Its almost reminiscent of when Sharktopus was there, only the weight is person-sized and when he opens his eyes, Lily is staring at him impassively.

“When did we become friends,” he says flatly before turning over to dislodge her and bury his face into his pillow. He wants to sleep some more before the full impact of last night hits him. “I miss when we were polite neighbors and you didn’t sit on me while I’m hungover. Also: how did you get in.”

“We’ve transcended relationships,” Lily announces, settling next to him. “And I broke in. Now get up.”

She pokes at him ungently and Remus pulls the sheets over his head in response.

“Remus,” Lily starts in an impatient tone she uses that’s thinly veiled with sweetness. “Guess who I woke up to this morning.”

“James, most likely,” Remus mumbles, already knowing where she’s going with this.

“And Sirius,” she says unnecessarily. If Remus’ stomach lurches at the name, its just the hangover, not anything else.

“I’m not interested in your polygamy this early in the morning,” he mutters, not caring if he’s intelligible. “Or ever.”

She pokes him again, even harder and its probably going to bruise this time. When he doesn’t respond, she drapes herself all down his back like a heavy blanket, pressing her gravity down as if to suffocate him with her entire body. Red hair itches his face but Remus’ arms are too trapped to move.

“Remus,” she says right in his ear with warm breath. Remus wonders if she knows she’s always starting sentences with people’s names or if its an intentional tactic to get their attention before she attacks them. Probably the latter; Lily was too smart to be unaware of anything. There used to be a time when Remus was the bookishly intelligent one and Peter balanced him by knowing other people’s gossip from eavesdropping. He misses those days; everyone he knows is too smart. “Remus, I’m not going to force you to do anything because Mary says that’s inorganic and the healthiest possibility for a relationship is to occur naturally.”

It sounds so much like something Mary would say Remus snorts a little into the pillow. He feels Lily’s smile curve against his cheek and has a suddenly moment of clarity that this is what it’s like to have more than one friend.

Despite the increasing difficulty of breathing and his pounding headache, its nice.

“But,” Lily is saying. “I can still meddle a little bit because you don’t actually know Sirius that well.”

She slides off him and perches on the edge of the bed, watching as Remus rolls over after an uncertain pause. When she catches his eye, she continues, voice more solemn than before.

“Sirius’ family is a sensitive subject,” she says. “Its… they disowned him you know, after years of tormenting him. He’s so talented he can do anything he wants but doesn’t because they’ve ruined him too much. I won’t tell you everything because its not my story, but you should at least understand a little. I get it because my sister was the same as his brother, which is really how Sirius and I became friends outside of James. Just…”

Lily trails off. Remus waits patiently for her to pick the thread up again, not knowing what he would say regardless.

“Just know that its hard for him to talk about,” Lily finishes quietly. “Especially lately. He’s not exactly the most stable person, but his family makes it worse. They fostered this rage in him so when he gets like this you have to just get used to understanding what its about and weather the storm.”

Its not very comforting but Lily looks apologetic like she knows, so Remus doesn’t mention it. He blinks at her until she cracks a soft smile and hands him the aspirin and water she had waiting on the side table. He has to sit up to take them and when he’s done swallowing, Lily is up and straightening her blouse.

When he sees her out, she reaches over to hug him. Her arms are strong and Remus is reminded of how James had unhesitatingly hugged him last night. As she pulls away, the warmth stays with him.

After the door snaps shut, Remus joins where Peter is quietly eating at the table. For a while, there’s nothing but the scrape of Peter’s spoon against the bowl and the hangover lingering in Remus’ temples.

“Lily broke in,” Remus says dully when Peter wordlessly pushes a cup of coffee toward him.

“We have cheap locks,” Peter replies like its in consequential. There doesn’t seem much else to say after that and Remus silently nurses his pressing hangover with the coffee.

“D’you remember last month,” says Peter suddenly in a small voice Remus hasn’t heard since their freshman year of college. “When we didn’t talk to anybody and we just did this every day?”

“Yeah,” Remus says softly. “Things were easier.”

But Peter just shakes his head. “No, I’m glad its different now.” He fixes Remus with intent eyes. “I think you’re finally getting better now, since Grey showed up. We don’t really talk about it seriously, but I was worried about you. I know money is always an issue, but you were focusing too much on working. You weren’t really taking care of yourself.”

Remus stay silent, memorizing the cheap wood grain of the table.

“That’s why I was glad you met Sirius,” Peter continues. “He’s different. You needed something carefree like that to take your mind off all the shit going on. He seems dangerous or whatever, and maybe all of his issues I don’t know about are too much to handle, but for now I’m glad he’s interested in you. You really needed that, Remus.”

“You’re too observant for your own good,” Remus mumbles. “And you don’t need to worry about me.”

“I know you don’t like it and that you feel like you’re a burden, but you’re not,” Peter says easily. “I’m happy to pick up slack on the rent, Remus, or at least Mum is. So you should stop worrying about being a burden on other people and start focusing on yourself, or I’m going to keep worrying and Mum is going to keep sending over too many cookies.”

He likes Mrs. Pettigrew’s cookies, but Remus knows that’s not the point. Its too early for this many serious conversations and his head is still pounding in reminder of last night’s disaster. Staring into the coffee, Remus can barely make out his own reflection, looking more haggard and older than his age would suggest.

 The past couple of weeks pile onto him in rapid succession and together, everything gets thrown in perspective. The people he’s gotten know, neighbors he barely recognizes kindly inviting him to tea and parties, relaxing with a stray cat too intelligent for her own good; he thinks about it all. There’s James’ unquestioning hug, Lily’s intent stare, Mary’s kind giggles, and _Sirius_.

Sirius incessantly texting him every thought that filters into his head, half of them intelligent and debate-inducing, the other half inane comments. Sirius visiting him at the library, not even seeming to notice all the attention he draws as he helps Remus stack books. Sirius sitting on the couch, talking about whatever topic caught his interest that moment, always asking Remus his opinion.

All of the distractions from work and school that should be stressing Remus out, but instead have been loosening his shoulders and making him the type of person who smiles at his phone in public. He hasn’t thought about quitting school or whether he was going to make rent in days, instead he’s been contemplating if he should get a cat to match Sharktopus or if she would be too jealous, and letting Sirius pull him out of the heavy daze of work and school Remus had been suffocating under without even realizing it.

Because, Remus admits silently to himself, he _had_ been suffocating.

It just took Sirius to make him realize it.

All the reasons Remus had been giving himself to not like Sirius have been reasons he’s wanted to be around him. There’s a sharp moment of clarity and Remus inhales with surprise. When he looks up, Peter’s silently fiddling with the remnants of his cereal, patiently waiting for Remus to draw a conclusion.

“I’m going to Sirius’,” Remus says.

Peter smile at him easily. “Don’t fuck on the couch.”

But this time, Remus just shamelessly smiles back because while there’s no way to know how the conversation is going to end, he kind of hopes Peter’s joke is a valid one.

\-- 

For however much he was content to press his nose to the ground and work instead of go to social events, this did not mean Remus wasn’t a considerably brave person. He knows, once the epiphany comes to him of what he needs to do, that he’s going to Sirius’ apartment without waiting around or reconsidering.

It doesn’t take much to assemble the courage needed for him to start off to see Sirius, though he does walk the entire way instead of taking the bus, going over what he wants to say in his head until his feet lead him to the door.

He knocks.

After several seconds, the apartment remains silent, so Remus knocks again and pairs it with a deep breath to steady himself.

He’s been standing outside of Sirius’ apartment for five minutes before his phone vibrates and he sees Lily’s name flash across the screen.

_Try one more time now._

Confused, Remus lifts his fist and raps it against the worn door.

“Lily you better not be lying about the vodka if -- oh.”

Remus tries not to wince at the flat, hollow tone that punctuates the sentence when Sirius flings open the door. He edges his foot against the frame in case Sirius thinks about shutting it.

“We should talk,” he says, offering it as an olive branch. Sirius just withers at him for a long moment before heaving a sigh and turning away.

He leaves the door open.

Remus closes it behind him and stands to where the length of the couch is between them, noting Sharktopus eyeing him from where’s curled up on the windowsill.

“I’d like to apologize. I was intrusive about your life,” says Remus. “When you’re allowed to have your secrets. Especially considering I have my own as well. We don’t owe each other anything, so it was wrong of me to assume that I was entitled to --”

“Fucking hell,” Sirius gives a bitter laugh that scrapes against Remus violently. “Are you joking?”

“Of course not,” Remus says sincerely. “And I want you to know that I didn’t mean that -- its not -- _you’re_ not the reasons, I’m the reasons.”

“The reasons,” Sirius repeats.

“The millions of reasons,” clarifies Remus shamefully.

“Of why you wouldn’t date me,” Sirius says slowly. There’s still fury tinged on the edge of his voice and the way he’s holding himself tense and jittery.

“Yes.”

Sirius stares at him some more before scoffing, “You’re the stupidest smart person I’ve ever met.”

Remus is opening his mouth to refute that when Sirius cuts him off.

“My brother died last semester,” states Sirius bluntly. There doesn’t seem to be much emotion one way or another about it, but Remus sees his eyes wavering and jaw clenching. “I hadn’t talked to him since I was seventeen, but our cousin called to tell me he was dead a few months ago.”

He can’t find the words he wants to use to take back every horrible thing he’s said, to say sorry to Sirius, to wipe that miserable, self-deprecating look off his face. Sirius just continues, unaware of Remus’ struggle.

“He was still my brother, so it was kind of painful to hear about,” now Sirius is trying to play it off like it doesn’t matter, even as his words contradict him. His tone fakes lightness in a way that makes it tight and brittle and Remus wants nothing more than to step into his space and hug him.

“I’m sorry,” is what Remus says instead, remembering how many people said those pointless words when his mother died. The air feels like lead with his words dropping uselessly on the floor between them. “And I’m sorry I brought it up to you. That probably opened up fresh wounds and --”

Sirius shakes his head with another despondent laugh. “D’you know why James took me to the library that first day after he saw Lily there? It wasn’t because he needed a wingman or anything, it was because he was afraid I’d -- do something.”

The implication weighs heavy in the air and Remus nearly chokes on it.

“So I let him drag me to the library so he could keep an eye on me and flirt with Evans at the same time,” Sirius shrugs, apparently used to behavior like this. He frowns at the floor before catching Remus’ eyes and he can see the energy growing in place there, filling in the depressed emptiness. “Then I saw you and you were just -- beautiful. Remus you have no idea, you were like this fucking  _beacon_ .”

“So you were attracted to me --” Remus tries, but Sirius shakes his head viciously, suddenly appearing almost manic now with the way his hair is falling out of its hairband and his skin is nearly vibrating.

“No, I mean I thought you were gorgeous, yes, but I also looked at you and saw how tired you were,” Sirius says, fingers fidgeting as if he’s almost ready to explode. “You looked so exhausted and just bone weary with the world. I could tell it wasn’t just from your job or a bad day, and I thought, ‘he looks the way i feel right now.’ Just --  _tired_ .”

Sirius is brimming with earnestness, trying to make Remus understand but Remus is still wrapping his head around what he said because it makes sense. He knows, from what he’s learned about Sirius’ brother and what he can infer about his parents, that despite the unbridled energy he infects, Sirius is just as worn down from life as he is.

It seems ironic that while Sirius’ excitement drew Remus in, his weariness is what drew Sirius in.

All along they were looking for each other.

“Sirius,” Remus says quietly and the other gives pause, taking a breath like he had been running very far. “The millions of reasons have been dissolved into zero.”

The fringe of Sirius’ mouth starts the beginnings of a smile and Remus can see the physical change his words present: how Sirius loosens and regains elation like its warm sunlight running through his veins in bursts.

“Remus,” Sirius says in return, suddenly happier so Remus can’t help but grin. “You  _are_ entitled. I’ve sold myself to you since that first day in the library.”

His face is going to crack open or stretch permanently with the way Remus is smiling so hard. “I like you.”

And then Sirius’ grin is at full force and directed at Remus. “That’s a coincidence. I like  _you_ .”

When they meet in the middle to kiss -- bumping noses and pressing against teeth because neither can stop smiling long enough to do it properly -- Sharktopus mews approvingly from the window.

\--

To Lily:  _How did you know he was going to answer the door at the last knock?_

To Remus:  _Peter told Mary you had left to see Sirius, so we timed how long it would take you to get there and I texted Sirius to ask if he heard knocking at his door. He texted me back, all confused like the dumb puppy he was and said yeah, but he thought it was just you and he was going to ignore it. So I told him it was me knocking and that he needed to open the door or he wouldn’t get any alcoholic incentives._

To Remus:  _I assume he answered and that you guys talked it out, but I don’t know why you’re texting me right now when you should be making out._

To Remus:  _Don’t you dare do it in James’ bed though, I know Sirius wants revenge from last time._

To Remus:  _Hello?_

To Remus:  _I’m going to assume you got your shit together and moved it to the appropriate bedroom._

To Remus:  _You’re welcome. --Me and Peter_

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Completely unbeta'd and written in a couple of days. This is my first finished fic in years, so I apologize in advance because I cannot write Remus Lupin's thought process at all. I just wanted to write about two dumb boys and a cat and it ended up three times longer than I anticipated.


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